


A Small Adventure

by VergofTowels



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, brief mentions of blood and other Night Valey stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergofTowels/pseuds/VergofTowels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a kink meme prompt:  "Pre-Dog Park Dana really wants to meet Khoshekh, but apparently Station Management gets kind of weird (in the way that only Station Management can) about the idea of letting ladies in the men's bathroom."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Adventure

“It just doesn’t seem particularly fair, that’s all,” Dana said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorjamb. “It wouldn’t have to be while anyone was _in_ there! I don’t want to see anyone’s diddly bits, just Khoshekh!”

“Now now, you know the rules,” Cecil replied, casting a split-second glance toward the hall where the menacingly-translucent door of Station Management’s domain lay. “You do remember what happened to Stanley the Intern when he tried to go into the ladies’ room, don’t you? It didn’t matter that he was the only one around to report, or that he donned a protective softmeats crown. Station Management sent out a memo and we never saw him again.” He paused, then bowed his head. “He will be missed.” 

Dana also lowered her head, but it shot up again shortly in righteous indignation. “We all know that was because of the transdimensional wave emissions coming from the mirror, though. It’s not as if there’s inherently anything prohibitive about this. Come on, Cecil! You have a reporter’s soul. How can I be true to my journalistic self without ever having seen our station pet or his litter of kittens?”

Cecil spun in a lazy arc in his swivel chair before sighing and giving Dana a stern look. “You must be very careful, Dana. I shall try to divert Station Management’s attention with my broadcast, but I suggest you attend to the proper sacrifices in the break room before you go.” The idea of occupying their terrifying bosses was not a pleasant one, but Cecil had to agree with Dana – everyone should have access to the adorableness that existed in the men’s bathroom, regardless of arbitrarily-assigned birth characteristics.

“Oh, thank you, Cecil! I will. You don’t have to worry.” Dana clasped his hand briefly, reassured by its warmth, and ducked out of the recording booth. She shut the door softly behind her as Cecil donned his headphones.

\---  
“In the early morning darkness you woke with a terror that would not leave you. That was not a dream. Welcome to Night Vale.

“This morning a strange green light descended over Main Street, faintly pulsing and giving off a whistle not unlike that heard many months ago when we first had the pleasure of meeting the esteemed head of the school board, the Glow Cloud. This light, however, did not change color but remained steady as it travelled up and down the road as if looking for something. Or some _one.”_

\---

Dana crept down the corridor, face smeared with the freshest of owl blood, neck draped with the quills of a particularly radioactive porcupine. Cecil had begun his broadcast about ten minutes ago and she knew that Station Management would be listening, if they could listen, to the news of the day. Bless Cecil with a wand of willow; she would have to bring him a coffee later on to make up for this great chance. Cautiously, she approached the door to the men’s room, on high alert for any movement in the station behind her, and laid her palm against the door.

\---

“And _I_ said, ‘Well, if that’s what you think would be best,’ so that’s what we ended up doing. Of course, I’d already had my Council-mandated slice at Big Rico’s earlier in the week, but any time spent with perfect Carlos is time well spent, even if it was only a quick meeting about scientific happenings and not at all romantic. Listeners, sometimes you simply have to accept that things are moving at a slower pace than you want them to, and that’s _okay.”_

Cecil steepled his fingers and tried not to frown. Things with Carlos… Well, there wasn’t really anything _with_ Carlos, which was the problem. But he would not give up! He just had to keep at it and one day Carlos might realize Cecil was trying to get him on a date. Anyway, he’d been reprimanded before for speaking about his _personal_ dealings with Night Vale’s most beloved citizen on the air, and he hoped that Station Management would focus on that and not on the covert activities happening in their very own station. Or on Dana.

\---

The door swung open and Dana stepped into the station’s men’s room carefully, treading lightly on the white and black tiles. It seemed unlikely that the bathroom would be booby trapped, but one could never tell these things. After a second or three of waiting for something to happen, Dana eased herself fully into the room. It was, upon inspection, not very much different from the ladies’ room, barring the floating cats.

“Oh, aren’t you just _precious?”_ Dana found herself squealing as she took in Khoshekh’s majesty. He and the kittens emitted a rumbling purr as she approached.

After only a moment, the pleasant sound was drowned out by an ominously-translucent door slamming against a wall and a ROAR.

\---

“The truck was soon righted and the watermelons quickly subdued by concerned citizens along the route. Final death toll has been set at only 1/3rd. This has been traffic.” Cecil paused to take a sip of water and nearly leapt out of his skin as _that sound_ that _terrible sound_ once again reverberated through the station. He quickly yanked the microphone down and rolled under his desk.

“Listeners, I am very sorry you had to hear that. It appears that Station Management is having a, uh, a quarrel. With some of the staff. Right now. And I do hope that the affected staff members know what they are doing and do not die very bloodily.” He swallowed, feeling a sharp stab of fear for Dana run through his chest cavity. “If you would like to send us letters, kindly bury the impulse and direct your attention instead to the void above. You may scream if you wish.” He clutched the microphone as the roaring grew louder outside the booth.

“And now, a word from our sponsor…”

\---

Dana shrank back against the wall, her head brushed briefly by a nearby paw, and wondered if she had the necessary points in the sheriff’s secret police’s game of Citizen Bingo to go to Not That Bad, Really, It Could Have Been Worse when she perished at the hands – claws – appendages of Station Management. She should have heeded Cecil’s warnings. When was the last time she’d called her mother?

Black ooze or smoke started coming in from under the door and Dana quickly drew a protective rune in the air before her. It did no good as the lights flickered and dimmed, casting the room into a sickly half-light. This was going to be the end. She closed her eyes.

Then, everything became confused. From far away, a bell ringing. Rocks failing into deep water. A scream growing louder and louder until it filled her head, until it filled the whole world. Whose voice was it? Was it hers?

Khoshekh meowed.

The lights came back on.

\---

Cecil scrabbled up from his former position on the carpet, mic clutched in one pale-knuckled hand. “Listeners? Are you still there? Am _I_ still here?” He patted down the front of his shirt, touched the silk of his tie, his favorite tie, the one he’d been wearing when he’d seen wonderful, flawless Carlos for the first time. “I am not sure what has just occurred at our humble radio station, but everything seems to have returned to normal….” He blinked, peering into the hallway with a heart beating far, far too quickly. There was even a tremor in his sonorous voice, which he tried to quell.

“Station Management appears to have retreated for the time being, although I am not sure _why._ Perhaps they had some. Paperwork.” He cleared his throat away from the microphone. At least he was still standing. Who really cared about the reason in the end? “I think it’s probably safe to continue the broad- Dana.” He froze, then sprinted down the hall toward the men’s room.

“Something awful may have occurred, ladies and gentlemen. Please bear with me…”

\---

“Dana? _Dana!”_

_What the…_ Dana blinked up at the fluorescent lighting until it was eclipsed by Cecil’s face, the third eye he had never quite admitted to having glowing a concerned violet. His glasses had slipped down his nose. 

“I’m okay,” she said, sitting up – had she fallen? – and brushing back her hair. “What happened?” She had a monster headache waiting just behind her eyes.

“I’m not sure,” Cecil said, offering her a hand to pull her to her feet. “Station Management- They came out? And I thought you’d probably disappeared like poor Stanley...” He seemed relieved to see her in one piece, microphone tilting limply in his free hand.

“I guess not,” she replied, rubbing her forehead. “I saw them coming in, under the door, and Khoshekh… _Khoshekh.”_ She stared at the cat, who was calmly giving himself a bath with a razor-sharp tongue. “He saved me.” It seemed ridiculous, that a harmless kitty had scared off Station Management, but she couldn't think of any other reason why she was still alive. She smiled. “What a good _boy.”_ She pet Khoshekh’s back lightly, which he tolerated.

Cecil was gaining back some color, his third eye slowly closing until it became impercievable once again. “Well, listeners, there you have it. An up-close-and-personal view of a story unfolding right here. Dana the Intern has finally met Khoshekh, our beloved station pet, inadvisable as it was, and he appears to have extended his feline grace to protect her from office disputes. Remember to drop a few cat treats into your bloodstone circles today and donate to the Night Vale Humane Society, located on the corner of Francine and Wood Pkwy.”

Dana tuned out Cecil’s voice, letting the words slip away and the remaining soothing tones lull her heart back to normal. She continued to pet Khoshekh, now purring again, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure what had happened that evening, but she did know one thing: when she got home she was going to adopt a few dozen cats.


End file.
